


along for the ride

by frostbitten_cheeks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23786161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitten_cheeks/pseuds/frostbitten_cheeks
Summary: It's Dan who says, very early on, "Oh my god, will you marry me?"Several futile conversations about marriage, as enacted by a pair of idiots.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 128





	along for the ride

**Author's Note:**

> this is the silliest thing i've written in a long time, but i just really want to hear 'One Shared Braincell TM' Dan and Phil have conversations about serious life decisions.

It's Dan who says, very early on, "Oh my god, will you marry me?"

It's January of 2010, they've been together for less than four months, and Phil's heading to a fancy restaurant to celebrate his birthday in sweatpants and a Pokemon t-shirt with a colorful sweatshirt zipped on top. Granted, he is also extremely ill and keeps predicting his imminent death, but Dan admires the daring fashion choice nevertheless.

All in all, it is _very_ early on. Phil sneezes loudly, spatters of snot landing on the camera and covering Dan's Skype screen, but Dan only rolls his eyes a little. Phil seems touched by this, so he says, sounding congested, "Yeah, of course I will! But I'm wearing this to the altar."

Dan's eighteen, so to him, that's the best idea he's ever heard.

  
  
  
  
  


It doesn't come up _often_. At first they're too young, and then too closeted, and then too much time has passed that the discussion is somewhat irrelevant. Six years in it's not like they're going to up and leave, Dan contemplates; it'd be like parting with one of their limbs without any medical emergency.

Phil's in the lounge frowning at videos of sloths when Dan thinks this, so he walks all the way across the hallway and asks, "Hey, Phil, if you were my limb, which limb would you be?"

Phil doesn't even look up. It must be the video of a sloth hugging a kitten. "Probably, like, your right leg? You've got that big toe we've always agreed looks a little like me. But I'm pretty sure there's a BuzzFeed quiz for this somewhere."

Dan gasps, enlightened, and throws over his shoulder, "Oh my god, you're a _genius_ , marry me!" as he sprints back to his room.

There is a quiz. It's called _which danisnotonfire body part are you_ and its headline picture has llamas on it. Dan is so betrayed that he announces he's divorcing Phil over dinner.  
  
  
  
  


Sometimes they do have adult conversations.

It's five years later when Dan pulls his headphones off one ear slowly, and then, unprompted, shouts: " _Ph-il_! Come on, you dick, I can hear you breathing, where are you?" 

They just don't have adult conversations _always._

Phil, apparently, is sitting on the staircase just past the wall of Dan's computer corner, and he is indeed breathing pretty loudly. He's also typing frantically on his computer and looks like he's running a marathon, which Dan takes to mean he's trying to clear out his mailbox again.

Dan grabs a notepad off the piano and comes down a few stairs. Phil looks at him when he sits, eyes wide, and says, "How _many_ people can want to sniff my socks? Please tell me it's the same person from different accounts."

"Sure, bub," Dan agrees, because it's probably not. Phil has a repressed issue with things involving feet. He flips the notepad open past a few scribbled music notes and says, unceremoniously, "I've been getting Instagram ads for wedding dresses again. The google god thinks it's time we have this conversation."

Phil pushes his laptop closed and puts it on a nearby stair. Dan's eye twitches. It's going to fall through the crack and break, and Phil will be shocked, and he is conceptually _willing_ to marry this man.

"You wanna talk about wearing wedding dresses?" Phil asks, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. "Because, I mean, you're kinda tall but you could totally rock it --"

Dan makes a _what, you idiot?_ face, says, " _No_ , Phil, a conversation about marriage," and then pauses, thinks, and says, "Well, actually, put a maybe on the dress. I could totally rock that, fuck you!"

Phil nods, solemnly. "I'm with you. No heels, though, you'll break my neck. So -- you wanna get married?"

Dan looks at him. Phil looks back. Dan says, hesitantly, "I don't know. Do you?"

The staring endures.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They draw a pros-cons table. Dan whines that Phil's lines are wobbly. Phil says Dan's face is wobbly. Dan says that can't be, so Phil pinches his own cheeks and stretches the skin and wobbles his face. They get distracted.

The table remains unfilled.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Two weeks later, the notepad on the coffee table is still empty. There's a bad doodle of Phil's Animal Crossing neighbour by the pros-cons list, and his beady eyes seem to be glaring at them.

"So," Dan begins, slowly, on a wine kind of Sunday. "Pro -- taxes. That's the easiest, most boring one. Con -- it costs a _shit ton_ of money. Like, fuck, capitalism really did a spin on that industry."

Phil nods, but his eyes are squinted a little. Dan thinks he might be communicating silently with the Animal Crossing drawing. "Uh, right. Okay. So, pro -- it's a nice idea. Like, in general. Celebrating our love and, like, stuff. I guess. Everybody knows there's nothing more romantic than writing up a contract and getting governmental approval. Con -- it's on public records. We're skirting the edges right now but marriage is a done deal."

Dan purses his lips, presses them to the rim of his wineglass. "Pro -- fancy outfits. Duh. I'm weirdly into bedazzling stuff right now. Con -- we'd have to invite my cousin Jeane, and you know I can't stand her."

"She's the Christmas of 11' culprit, yeah? Okay, that's a strong con. Um. Pro -- it'd make my parents really happy. I don't think Martyn's gonna come around and they don't say anything, but I know it will mean a lot to them. Con -- the idea of planning a party for so long gives me the hives."

"I like how we didn't consider for like, a _second_ having a small gathering. This is the _all or nothing_ tendencies speaking here, Phil, and it's disgusting. Alright, pulling out the big guns: con -- there's no need. We know that. Nothing's gonna change and there's no traditional value in it for us. But pro -- it might make adopting a hella easier, if we decide to do that."

There's a pause. 

Phil meets his eyes, levelled. Dan takes a sip of wine, passes it over to Phil.

Phil finishes the glass and says, "Pro -- and you're not allowed to make fun. But I kinda like the idea of calling you _husband_."

Dan's mouth curves upwards. He rubs his jaw with the back of his fingers. "Pro -- I do, too."

There's a second pause. Phil squeezes Dan's thigh, fleetingly, the closest body part he could reach. "Alright. Real talk time. Pro -- we want kids. Even if we start with surrogacy, it might not work out, or we might want to adopt later on, and it would look better on paper if we'd been married for awhile. Con -- it's just that. It's a piece of paper. And that's a lot of fuss for something I can print and stick on our retired gaming channel board."

Dan hums, amused. "Pretty sure that's fraud, buddy, but sure, go ahead and print us a fake marriage certificate. I'll make us rings out of onions."

Phil turns bright eyes at him. "That would be _amazing_ , but I would also totally bite my finger."

"Alright, _Charlie_ ," Dan says, but he's laughing. Phil would probably bite his ring even if it was made of metal. He's an idiot. "We have reached a conundrum. What do we do?"

Phil looks at the notepad, tilts his head. Dan looks down, follows his gaze. They pause again.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They play animal crossing.

And then have sex. Phil's worldbuilding skills are wretched but simultaneously a thing of _beauty_ and Dan's a simple man.

  
  
  
  
  
  


"We don't _have_ to make a decision now," Phil says, later, when they're in bed. Dan's patting his bare chest absentmindedly and twisting his fingers through the hairs. "I don't think the google god would literally punish you."

"Shut your fucking mouth," Dan says, immediately, because google is dangerous and you shouldn't tempt fate. "No, but like, if I get married I wanna do it before I'm thirty, you know? So when we're a hundred years old I at least can be all like _it's been 83 years_ whenever something marriage-related happens."

Phil considers this. "That's a strong pro, Dan. Write it down later."

Dan makes a mental note to do that. "So whaddaya say? How do we settle this?"

Phil sighs heavily, apparently burdened by the weight of the world. He wriggles his shoulder from underneath Dan’s head and shuffles down so they’re looking each other directly in the eye. "We've no other choice. Like adults, I guess." 

  
  
  
  
  
  


They flip a coin.


End file.
